What Is Love
by printessa
Summary: A series of short fics and drabbles based on a poem titled "What Is Love" by an unknown author.


**"Love is a slow kiss goodnight."**

Lovino crossed his arms over his chest, an indignant huff escaping those usually pursed lips. The only reason that he'd agreed to go on this stupid date with Antonio was because the idiot refused to give up, despite the Italian doing everything in his power to push the older teen away. At least, that was what he continued to tell himself, even now, as they approached his front porch. The dusty, covered light flickered a bit as he shuffled to a stop, turning on his heel to face the other.

God, he looked so fucking ecstatic, Lovino couldn't help but roll his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh, likely the fiftieth one that night.

"Well." He shrugged his shoulders, hesitating a bit as he handed Antonio's jacket back to him. In all honesty, the date hadn't been… _Too terrible_. Which the younger teen couldn't deny was a bit of a miracle since he tended to end up miserable after most outings. He honestly preferred to stay inside, seeing as he wasn't exactly a people-person, whatever the hell that was. Antonio, on the other hand, seemed to be able to strike up a successful conversation with just about anyone, making even strangers smile.

The shorter brunette shook his head, that wayward curl bobbing a bit as he returned his attention to the other teen, who was shifting from foot to foot on his porch.

"Why are you still here?" He mumbled, digging in his pocket for his lone house key.

"Ah, well… To make sure you get inside safely, of course!"

Lovino would have snorted at the response, had he not been able to sense the nervousness weaving through the usually overly (annoyingly) confident Spaniard's words. He fumbled with his key a moment, cursing in his mother tongue as he dropped it onto the pavement.

"I'll be fine, idiot." He muttered, cheeks painted a rosy pink as he reached down to pluck his key up from the cool cement of the porch.

"Right." There was a subtle stutter to Antonio's words, the air between them beginning to grow increasingly awkward. Way to end the night.

As Lovino went to unlock his door again, a hand shot out, gently grasping his wrist in an effort to halt him. "Goddammit, you made me drop my key again!" He scowled up at the other, giving him his attention in spite of his initial annoyance.

"S - Sorry I just…" Antonio let go of his wrist, using that hand to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was wondering if you had fun tonight?" He asked, hopefulness shining in those bottle greens.

"Of course not!" Lovino initially stated, cringing a bit when this elicited a negative reaction from Antonio. The older boy's shoulders slumped, his expression temporarily crestfallen. Shit. He looked like a kicked puppy, and he couldn't stand seeing the usually far-too-happy Spaniard like that. "I mean…" He pursed his lips into a tight line for a moment, embarrassment fueling the heat in his cheeks. "It was an okay d - date, I guess." He peeked back up at the other, trying to gauge his reaction.

It took a moment, but Antonio began to brighten up once more, though he still seemed nervous. Evidently he understood that Lovino's words were just about as positive a response se he was going to get. After all, he was just grateful that the Italian had agreed to go to dinner with him at all.

"Date, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, a smug lilt to his tone.

"Yeah?" Lovino cautiously replied, his own brows beginning to furrow.

"You said it wasn't a date earlier, but now you're saying it is?" Anotnio pressed further, causing Lovino to clam up for a moment.

"Shut up, bastard! It was a slip of the tongue, I swear. You're so irritating, godda -!" The spitfire Italian's little rant was cut off by a pair of lips pressed against his own. At first, he beat his fists against Antonio's chest, but it didn't take long for him to melt into it, fists unfurling at his sides as his arms hung limp.

Fuck. _Fuck_.

He seriously hated Antonio.

The kiss lasted no longer than a few seconds, but it was slow and gentle, almost cautious. The Spaniard's lips were slightly chapped, but Lovino couldn't find in himself to complain about that at the moment.

"Goodnight, Lovino." Antonio murmured as he pulled away, slightly breathless, but his voice gentle nonetheless.

Lovino froze up as the other began to walk away, his hands twitching at his sides. He tried to collect his thoughts, to think of _something_ to say to that goddamn airhead, but all he managed was a strained "you better be bringing me coffee when you pick me up for school tomorrow! And not that shitty Spanish coffee, either!" He then reached down and swiped his key off the ground, jamming it in the lock and turning it. He threw open the door and slammed it behind him without waiting for a reply from his date.

"Lovino, stop slamming doors!" He briefly heard his grandfather call from his study as he slumped against the door, much giddier than he'd like to admit as he reached up and traced his fingertips over his lips.

_He hated Antonio_.

**"_It is _anticipation__."**


End file.
